The Whaler's Hunter
by Juana la Cliker-Rooster
Summary: Rated R for language, drinking, violence. 9 year old Flapjack suffers the loss of Bubbie and abandons Stormalong on his own.  Eleven years later, he emerges as Captain of the Bubbie II, angry and seeking revenge.  Please read Author's Notes.  COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1

**The Whaler's Hunter**

Juana la Cliker-Rooster

2010

**Author's note: ** _Hi folks. My name is Juana la Cliker-Rooster, and this is my first (and probably last) Flapjack fic. Please be aware that this is a very dark, depressing story (with a fairly happy ending), and that is it rated M for langauage, suggestive situations, heavy drinking and violence. I know that the show is nothing like this, but that's what a fic is for, to be creative and expand on an existing idea. I have not seen every episode of Flapjack, as I have no TV, and so anything I miss or don't know about is something you will simply have to deal with._

_Please leave a constructive review. I am working on my writing skills and have so much to learn, and what better way to do it than by posting for others to read? If you fave or watch, please make the effort to comment and tell me if there are any awkward sentences or wordings that you'd like to see changed._

_Again, I know this isn't exactly like the cartoon, but remember, it's a fan fic, not an official script. Please help me feel welcome in this community. Thanks,_

_Juana

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_

**One**

The weather was the same as it ever was today in Stormalong Harbor. The weather was chilly, the sun was barely existent, and the salty wind blew through the creaking city, whipping the faces of the residents violently. The sad sky was grey and tired, but they paid no mind to it; to them, it was just another boring day at home.

It was, however, an adventure for one particularly happy child, who showed his cheery attitude to everyone loudly as he ran around, saying his daily hellos and laughing at things that weren't meant to be funny. Behind him, in slow, sleepy steps, followed his favorite person in the whole world, Captain K'nuckles, who wasn't really much of a Captain. If he had been at one point, he certainly wasn't respected for it.

The young boy stopped for a moment, turning back to watch the Captain make his way toward him, but instead made a beeline straight for Stormalong Harbor's local bar, the candy Barrel. It was the Captain's favorite place to go and drown his many sorrows.

'Awww…' thought the young boy, 'not again.'

"CAPTAIN!" he called, 'OVER HERE!"

"Come on, Flap, let's go," the Captain answered in his rough, gravely voice, "And quit prancing around like a lunatic! You'll give people the wrong idea."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you look like a sissy," K'nuckles retorted rudely, "Now come on, we got stuff to do."

"Aw, cannonballs," Flapjack muttered, his entire body drooping in disappointment. He still had so many people to greet, and this was putting a serious dent in his time! Sighing, he reluctantly dragged his feet over to the Candy Barrel. K'nuckles paid no mind to the boy's sudden decrease in joy, and ordered two mugs of candy to linger over.

They sat down at a booth and Flapjack simply rested his chin down on the dirty table and stared across the table at nothing in particular. K'nuckles gulped down a portion of his candy and stared hard at him, wishing he were that young again.

It had been two years since Flapjack and Bubbie, Flapjack's guardian and acting mother, who was also a whale, had rescued K'nuckles from drowning, and they had taken him in, much to Bubbie's dismay. Flapjack had been a naïve, strange little seven year old who had little common sense and even smaller good sense of judgment. Now he was nine, and still just as lacking as ever. He had the heart and soul of an adventurer, and meeting K'nuckles had been the greatest thing to ever happen to him. Unfortunately, K'nuckles was a terrible role model and while he sometimes served as a father, he was lousy at the responsibility.

"Jeez, Flap," he grumbled at the kid, "at least eat your candy. It'll make ya feel better."

"I'd feel better if we were on an adventure," Flapjack mumbled, "Can't we go find one?"

"You can't just go and 'find' and adventure, Flap, it's gotta come to you," K'nuckles' answered.

"Well then, where is it?"

"I dunno, and I don't care. Now eat yer candy before I do."

Flapjack pushed the full mug away from him and mumbled,

"I don't want it. I'm going back outside."

"Fine," K'nuckles shrugged, "just don't get killed out there or the whale will kill _me_." Flapjack didn't respond, but instead left the bar in a hurry, desperate to find something to do. Outside, the salty wind whipped his face as it always did, but today was the first day he really noticed it. He looked up at the sky and sighed. Nothing ever really happened here, did it? Anything? He'd never noticed how the days blended together till he no longer knew the difference between today and last month.

"I know," he said to himself, 'I'll go talk to Bubbie! She always knows what to say. She's so smart." And with that, Flapjack sprinted across town and down to the dock where his matriarch figure waited patiently for him every day.

"Hi baby," she smiled when she saw him, "Done already with your hellos?"

"Hi Bubbie," he answered, sitting down in front of her, 'I didn't get to finish today. Bubbie, can I ask you a question?"

"Uh, sure, baby, anything," she answered nervously. She twiddled her flippers. She never had an easy time answering her little boy's questions, especially when they sounded like real doozies.

"Has Captain K'nuckles always been boring?" Bubbie breathed a sigh of relief and answered quickly,

"Yes. He's a terrible influence on you, practically trying to turn you into a candy addict with all that time at the Candy Barrel. I wish you didn't spend so much time with him. What about the other kids around here? Why don't you go make some new friends?"

"I can't," he answered, hugging his knees to his chest, "They all call me names and make fun of Captain."

"Oh baby, I didn't know that!" Bubbie gasped, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I dunno," he answered, "I just didn't. Is there something wrong with me?"

"Oh sugar, now, don't say that," Bubbie said, trying to defuse the situation, "You're a perfect little angel, and there's nothing wrong with you! Don't let those other kids make you feel bad about yourself, you're perfectly normal."

"I don't feel normal," Flapjack mumbled, "I feel worthless."

"Now don't you start that kind of talk!" Bubbie snapped, "You gonna sound like K'nuckles, and you do not want to go down that path. Everybody loves you, and everybody knows you aren't worthless. Now get on Bubbie's back, we'll go find our own adventure."

Flapjack looked up from his knees and gave Bubbie a sad smile, then jumped up and climbed onto her back. Just as they began to take off, K'nuckles came hobbling down the stairs in an inebriated state of mind.

"Hey, where you two goin'?"

"Leaving you behind, fool," Bubbie said flippantly, "and finding our own adventure."

"Let me in, woman," K'nuckles grumbled, "I'm tired."

"NO," she snapped, "I'm not letting you in. Flapjack, sweetie, let's go."

"Hey!" K'nuckles yelled, "Let me in or so help me…"

He never got to finish his sentence. Out across the water, there came a deep battle cry from a nearby ship, and all three of them looked out across the water with wide eyes. The crew was aiming something

sharp

right

at

Bubbie.

They didn't see the little boy standing on her head.

One large, frightening beast of a man, most definitely the Captain of the ship, yelled an incomprehensible order at his crew, and three sharp harpoons flew over the water toward them.

"Oh my God…" Bubbie whispered, "Flapjack, JUMP!"

"Bubbie, dive!" he screamed, "DIVE!"

"JUMP, BABY!"

"BUBBIE!"

The harpoons struck their target. Their force rocked Bubbie so hard that Flapjack was flung from her head and into the water with a cry. He swam back to the surface and was shocked to find Bubbie's blood already staining the water. He swam to her frantically, sobbing, and wrapped his arms around her cheek.

"Bubbie…" he whispered, "Please fight back…"

"Flapjack, sweetheart," Bubbie gasped, trying to stay afloat, "I want you to always remember…ugh…I will always love you, baby…argh…oh my…whatever you…nngh…do in your life…remember that I'll always be with you….nngh…oooh…I love you so much, Flap baby…."

"Bubbie, don't say that, you're gonna be okay, I promise—"

"Honey, I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "This wasn't supposed to ever happen…Just remember I love you, and always will…." Bubbie suddenly stopped her struggling and began to sink down.

"No," Flapjack whimpered, "NO! Captain! HELP!" But when Flapjack looked up at the pier, the man was gone. The water around Flapjack was red, but he didn't notice. All he could do was watch helplessly as his mother, the wonderful whale, sank down, bleeding and drowning to death. He shook his head at her, unable to accept her fate, and dove after her. He reached her, and touched her face. They made eye contact for the last time, and Bubbie rolled her eyes back finally and died. Flapjack grabbed onto her and let himself sink with her. He couldn't live without her, he just couldn't, so he decided he would die with her….

A strong pair of hands grabbed his arms and pulled him away from her corpse. He opened his mouth to scream and tried to wrestle the hands off, but they were too strong for him. Flapjack could only watch as he was pulled up and Bubbie sank down, then jerked to the right. The whaling sink that had taken her life was pulling its prize in.

The strong hands pulled Flapjack up and lifted him up towards the pier, where another pair of hands pulled him up. Flapjack looked up with a blood stained face to see nearly the entire community of Stormalong surrounding him and watching the whaling ship take Bubbie away forever.

"BUBBIE!" he shrieked at the ship, 'YOU TOOK AWAY BUBBIE!" He dropped to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. The man who had saved him, the blonde-haired Real Adventurer that had shared a few wonderful adventures with the young boy, kneeled beside him and placed a hand on his back. The local women stood and stared with tears in their eyes at the ship, and even the Dock Hag found herself feeling terrible.

A triumphant cheer rose up in the distant ship, and everyone's attention was drawn to it. Flapjack stood up and snatched a telescope from a resident's hands and focused in on the Captain. Black coat, black hat, black boots with silver buttons and laces. His unruly red beard was braided with silver pieces and white ribbon. The Captain was an older man, and he certainly looked the part of wicked villain. The ship, Flapjack observed, was named the _Black Whaler_. This man is going to pay, thought Flapjack as tears ran down his eyes, creating rivers of tear-streaked skin against the layer of blood on his face.

It was indeed the darkest day in Stormalong.

_End Chapter One_

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_So please, leave a review (a real one) and let me know what you think._


	2. Chapter 2

The Whaler's Hunter

Juana la Cliker-Rooster

2010

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**Two**

Eleven years passed. Captain K'nuckles could still be found rummaging through the dumpsters of the Harbor, or getting himself kicked out of the Candy Barrel. He'd become so much older, so tired and depressed with age. His home was gone. Flapjack had run away from the Harbor almost instantly after the horrible attack on his wonderful Bubbie. No one knew where the little boy had gone off to, and they all looked to the Real Adventurer, who had taken Flapjack in after the attack. Flapjack had run away only two days with the Adventurer and his wife, the owner of the Stormalong Second Chance Home for Boys. They had no idea where he was, though they searched for him for two years.

K'nuckles, down on his luck tonight as usual, was walking along the edge of the Harbor and noticed a ship nearby with its lights all on, a ship known as the _Global Trader_. The shouts and swears of men from inside sounded promising, and he walked towards it in the hopes of gambling and winning a few rounds of poker. When he walked into the social room of the ship, the noise died down and all hostile eyes were on him. K'nuckles, suddenly nervous, decided to back out and try elsewhere, but a slam behind him said otherwise.

"Uh…" he started, "say, fellas, this isn't my ship. Sorry, I'll be off. Must be really drunk tonight, heh."

"Sure," growled a very large, very hairy man next to him, "Shut up an' sit down. Play a game or two." The hairy man slapped K'nuckles' back and pushed him further into the crowded room. Hands in his pockets, he sat down at a table and was instantly dealt some cards. Within minutes he was playing the game and losing everything he had. Several drinks were thrown his way, and soon, he became too inebriated to notice the ship was moving away from the Harbor and into the night.

It was eight in the morning when he woke up with nothing but his underpants and a hangover.

"Ungh…" he groaned as he opened his eyes and tried to make out his surroundings. He was aboard a ship he wasn't familiar with, and there was another ship, a beautiful Barque ship, a few hundred yards away, but it looked unrelated to the ship he was on. "Wha' happened?"

"Hey, guys, look. The geezer's wakin' up. Hey grandpa, how'd ya sleep last night?"

"Wha'—what is this?" K'nuckles yelled as he shakily got back to his feet, "Where're my clothes?"

"You lost it all, grandpa," the hairy man laughed, "You're the worst poker player we've ever had!" He and the other men aboard the _Global Trader_ laughed, infuriating K'nuckles. Face bright red with anger, he opened his mouth to give them a piece of his mind, but instead was horrified when they seized him and tossed his overboard.

"So long, gramps!" the hairy man shouted, "Thanks for the hat! Hahahahaha!"

"Wait! Don't leave me out here! I can't swim!" K'nuckles screamed, "HELP!"

"Nah, gramps," the hairy man answered, "But maybe those guys over there will help you. See ya!"

"You rotten, sons of—" K'nuckles began to sink. He flailed his arms about, wishing for the millionth time he'd learned to swim. He did his best to stay above the water, and screamed for help, hoping that the nearby Barque ship across the water could hear him. He was lucky—they heard him and sent out a rescue boat with two men. They were fast rowers, and they were at the drowning man's position within minutes. They had to dive down to snatch him back up, but he wasn't going to die.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," he groaned as he gasped for breath aboard the little rescue boat, "Why does my life have to be so hard?"

Neither of the men answered him, but instead rowed back in silence. K'nuckles sat up and stared at the boat that had tossed him overboard as it sailed away. Sighing, he turned his attention to the new ship he was headed for, wondering how in the world he was going to get home.

"Hey, fellas," he said cautiously, "Yer not gonna take all my stuff and toss me overboard later tonight, are ya?"

No answer.

"…Ooooookay…."

The men continued rowing until they reached the ship. Once aboard, K'nuckles was tossed a shirt and some pants. He quickly put them on, then looked around in search of the Captain. His eyes fell on a very tall, very rugged man in his fifties. The man sported tattoos and scars, and he even wore an eye patch. He stood on a quarter deck above the others, and didn't look down at K'nuckles.

"Hey, 'scuse me," K'nuckles said, unsure of himself, "Is there any way you fellas can take me home to Stormalong Harbor?"

The eye patched man looked down at K'nuckles and growled,

"That's up to the Captain, old man." K'nuckles' jaw dropped.

"You're not the Captain?" he asked, shocked. The man answered gruffly,

"No. I'm the First Mate. The Captain is on his way to meet you. He'll decide whether you stay or go." Then, as if on cue, heavy clomping steps made their way down to the main deck, and the Captain of the ship emerged and stood tall over K'nuckles and the crew.

"…Flapjack?"

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_End Chapter Two_


	3. Chapter 3

The Whaler's Hunter

Juana la Cliker-Rooster

2010

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**Three**

The Captain looked down at the old man that had been taken aboard his ship. He removed his powder blue hat and glared down at K'nuckles with a well-worn frown. His blonde hair blew wildly in the breeze. The spark that once lit up his big blue eyes was gone, now replaced by a dull grey. He looked angry, tired…yet so very determineds. He kept his chin up, glaring down at K'nuckles with only his dulled eyes.

Flapjack, K'nuckles noticed, wore a powder blue coat to match the hat in his hand, and he realized it was Bubbie's color. The young man's hands were clenched into fists, but the older man could see scars running up from them up into his arms, and there were a few more scars on his neck and face too. He looked strong, too.

"Flappy? Is it really you?"

The crew was quiet, and all eyes were on Flapjack and K'nuckles. K'nuckles noticed the sudden silence and nervously tapped his wooden fingers together. Flapjack, however, looked away and turned his attention to the ship that had tossed K'nuckles overboard. He simply uttered two words:

"After them."

The crew sprang into action. K'nuckles was pushed aside in the rush, and could only watch as the crew skillfully and quickly turned the ship for the chase. They caught up almost too quickly; they had the _Global Trader _crew terrified. The _Trader_ crew pulled out their weapons as Flapjack's crew swiftly boarded them, but were quickly apprehended and tied up. The men who had played an old man out of his clothes and whatever money he may have had were suddenly made helpless and at the mercy of Flapjack and his apparently ruthless crew. K'nuckles watched as Flapjack strode confidently across a board and onto the enemy ship. His well-worn boots clomped loudly against the wooden deck, and the crew of the _Global Trader_ looked up at him in horror. He examined the entire opposing crew silently, narrowing his angry young eyes.

When he reached the ship's Captain, he leaned in and growled,

"Are you a whaling ship?"

"N-no, sir," the Captain whimpered, "We're in the trading business, sir. Spices, goods, clothing, exotic foods…no whales, sir."

"Hmmm. Do you trade and sell items made of whale?"

"Um…"

"Do you or do you not sell whale-based items!" Flapjack roared in the Captain's face. The Captain, terrified by the young man questioning him, could only tremble with fear. Flapjack, content with the man's answer, or lack thereof, turned his head towards his crew and ordered,

"Toss them. Burn it."

K'nuckles watched in horror as the crew obeyed, tossing the tied up, screaming and begging crew of the _Global Trader_ overboard and letting them drown. They gathered some of the goods and brought them over to Flapjack's ship, then set the _Trader_ on fire. The crew watched it go down in flames with vicious grins and a few high fives, but Flapjack didn't stay behind to watch. Instead, he turned to K'nuckles. He said nothing.

"Flappy," K'nuckles said, "You just…you just murdered all those men for nothing. How could you do that?"

"You will address me as Captain, worthless urchin," Flapjack ordered sharply, "You may not speak unless spoken to, and you will obey all my orders, or you may end up like those bastards down there."

"How old are you now? 15? 16?"

"Twenty," Flapjack answered, "Not that you deserve to know. Obey my orders, urchin, or you will be drowned, and this time, we won't be there to save you."

"Flappy, it's me, your old pal! Don't you remember all the fun we—"

BAM.

K'nuckles fell to the floor with a thud and stared up at the young man who had just punched him in the nose. He could feel blood trickling down over his lip. Flapjack glared down at him wordlessly, then looked up at his crew with disgust in his eyes.

"Horace," he barked to the eye-patch wearing First Mate, "See to it this urchin stays away from me and does as he's told. If he gives you or anyone else any grief, you have permission to toss him overboard without consulting me first."

"Yes, Captain," Horace answered respectfully, "I understand, sir."

"Excellent. Now get to work on those goods. I want everything stored away before nightfall."

"Yes, sir."

Flapjack, satisfied, turned on his heel and clomped off. K'nuckles could only watch the young man leave; he was too scared to speak. That wasn't Flapjack, it couldn't be. Flapjack had never been so…terrifying before. Where was the sweet, happy, strange little boy everyone loved so much? Could someone really change that much in just eleven years?

Horace came up behind him and growled,

"You heard the Captain. Move yer butt and git to work. Help us take these goods down for storage."

"What?" K'nuckles grunted, "Yer kidding."

"Nope," laughed Horace, and he tossed a particularly heavy box of fruit at him. K'nuckles yelled in surprise before he was knocked down. Grunting, he tried to get back up and lift the box, but his wooden legs snapped and left him disabled on the deck. All around him, Flapjack's crew laughed and jeered at him like he were a circus freak. Then they abandoned him and returned to their task, leaving the old man to sit on the deck, defeated and humiliated.

Later that evening, K'nuckles was still in the same spot, legless, depressed and considering jumping overboard and just ending it all. He could hear the crew laughing in the galley as they ate their feast, compliments of the now dead crew of the _Global Trader_. Flapjack did not dine with them, rather, he preferred the solitude of his quarters.

A dim light escaped from his window, and it just missed reaching K'nuckles. He looked up at the window, then furrowed his eyebrows in determination. He had to go to talk to the kid, even if it killed him. He had to.

Hoisting himself up by his wooden hands, K'nuckles awkwardly began his journey up to Flapjack's quarters. Luckily, none of the crew members saw him taking off. It was hard work, but he was making progress as he crawled and climbed his way up a very short flight of steps. Just as he reached the door, it swung open with a bang. The noise from the galley ceased immediately, and all eyes turned up to their Captain. Flapjack stood in the doorway with the dim candlelight from his room pouring out from behind him, casting him in silhouette. It was both majestic and terrifying.

Horace jumped up from his seat and ran towards them, but Flapjack raised a hand and said,

"No. I want to speak with him."

"Oh. Uh, yes, Captain. Sorry, sir." Horace returned to his seat. Flapjack narrowed his eyes down at K'nuckles, then said,

"Come in."

"Uh…thanks." He walked in and plopped himself down, glad to give his arms a break. Flapjack walked over to a glass cabinet and retrieved two small glasses and a bottle of rum. He poured a drink for K'nuckles, then himself. Walking back, he handed the drink to the old man and sat himself down on a very comfy looking chair. K'nuckles moved to sip his drink, but stopped himself short as Flapjack downed his drink in mere seconds. He reached for the bottle and poured another one.

K'nuckles placed his drink down and coughed nervously. Flapjack downed the second drink and was on his third. It hadn't been yet a minute, and he was about to pour a fourth when K'nuckles interrupted him.

"When did you start drinking like that?"

"Thirteen," came the dry, unconcerned answer, "thank God."

"Uh…not to be disrespectful, but don't you think you might have a problem?"

"And you didn't?" Flapjack replied calmly.

"Touché," K'nuckles answered, "But seriously, Flap, just take it easy, okay?"

"No," Flapjack answered, "I do what I choose to do, and no one tells me otherwise. Don't try to save me, K'nuckles, you're not going to succeed."

"Flappy, what happened? You used to be such a good kid, everybody loved you. They searched for you forever in Stormalong. We're close by, you can still go home!"

"My home is dead," Flapjack muttered darkly, "She was taken away from me. I watched her die, K'nuckles. It was horrible."

K'nuckles cast his eyes down at the floor and listened, saddened that the lost spark of Flapjack's high voice was gone. The highness was still there, but the joy behind it had long gone. They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes, and K'nuckles had to painfully watch Flapjack down three more drinks. The young man wasn't even buzzed. He'd had a lot of practice over the years, it seemed.

"Why did you leave us?" K'nuckles looked back up at Flapjack, not entirely caught off guard by the question. He'd asked himself the same thing a million times before, and he never liked the answer. Flapjack was looking directly at him. K'nuckles sighed. There was no point in lying or making excuses, not with the new Flapjack.

"I left because I couldn't handle it."

"That's it?" Flapjack set his eighth drink down and leaned forward.

"Yeah. I couldn't watch her die. Flap, despite how often Bubbie and I fought, I still cared about her. Both of you. I couldn't watch someone I cared about just die."

Flapjack was silent—this wasn't the answer he'd expected, nor wanted. He wanted to hear something more selfish than that, he wanted to get angry and toss the fake Captain overboard. He wanted to scream and throw a bottle of rum at the old man and take out eleven years of fury on him, but now he couldn't. K'nuckles had ruined the moment with his honesty.

"Goddammit," Flapjack muttered under his breath, "Fantastic."

"So tell me about yourself, boy," K'nuckles said, not realizing he'd foiled Flapjack's eleven-years-in-the-making plan, "You're not the same kid I knew, so who are you?"

Flapjack sighed, trying to drop his frustration, took another drink, this time from the bottle itself and answered,

"After Bubbie was murdered, I took off. I couldn't be there anymore. It was too much for me, so I hid on the first ship that was leaving Stormalong and got caught two days in. The Captain put me to work and all I did for three years was wash the decks, peel potatoes and entertain his idiot crew. After those three years, the Captain finally asked me my story, and I told him I wanted to learn the whaling trade. He introduced me to a friend of his, Captain Montgomery Clove the Third. Clove took me as his apprentice and taught me how to operate his ship, and how the equipment worked. In five months I was allowed to go on his ship. He never got to shoot a whale with me on board. I poisoned him and his crew on the first night, tossed their carcasses overboard and took the reins of the ship myself. I was a strong kid by then—Clove made me work out so I could handle whatever the ship threw my way."

"…Whoa."

"Yep. Another year was spent sailing the stolen ship and exploring. I found, believe it or not, Candied Island in my travels, and took back barrels and barrels of candy with me. It was a lot of rough work, and it hit me that I needed a crew. So I docked at a pier at Crew Island in the hopes of finding a good group of men to work for me."

"You're—are you serious? This is all true, Flappy?" K'nuckles jaw was on the floor. Flapjack shrugged and answered,

"Yep. I was the youngest person to ever step on the Island, so of course when I walked into a bar, all eyes were on me. I got more dirty looks and threats that night than I have in my life. Some men offered to punch my face in, others offered candy for an hour in their rooms. I refused to accept any of it, so I punched them. In the jaw. And broke a few bones. And ribs. Jeez, looking back, I think I killed a guy, too." He took another swig from the bottle and chuckled. K'nuckles was at a loss for words.

"After I knocked some of the biggest guys out, the men began to leave me alone. But there were a few guys watching me, and they called me over. I was prepared to knock them out too, and they knew it. They offered me a drink, my first rum, and some candy to prove they had good intentions. I sat with them and told them I needed a crew. They laughed, mostly because I had just turned thirteen, and a thirteen year old at the wheel is a pretty bad idea. But I got lucky. A huge monster of a man came over and punched me in the head without warning. My first thought was to run and get out of there before I got myself killed, but I didn't. I stayed and fought back. The man was left with two broken arms, a black eye and probably some internal bleeding.

All the pain I was going through with losing Bubbie had been just bubbling under the surface for years, and I guess I just snapped and went all out on the guy. It was horrible, but I needed it. The beating I gave him earned me this beautiful ship and a crew, namely, the guys who offered me a drink. It turned out the big man I nearly killed was the resident bully of Crew Island, and had been undefeated for twenty-six years. All it took was an angry, little teenager with a lot of pent up rage to break his record. This was his ship. She was a mess, but I had the experience to fix her up. I burned down the ship I'd stolen to avoid being found and arrested. Welcome aboard the _Bubbie II_. I'm a whaler hunter."

K'nuckles didn't answer right away. He could only stare at the young man before him and feel sorry for Flapjack. Not that K'nuckles had ever really felt sorry for anyone before—he loved unhappy endings!—but there was something just too tragic about Flapjack's life. He had been such a joyous little boy. Now he sat before the same little boy, an angry, lost, alcoholic child who had lost his mother and his innocence. This wasn't supposed to happen to him.

"Flap—I'm sorry."

"…What."

"I said I'm sorry," K'nuckles reiterated, "I'm sorry your life turned out this way."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Flapjack groaned, taking another swig of rum, "Don't give me that. I'm so sick of hearing the 'oh-so-sorry' bull."

"You've lost yourself, boy."

"I found myself, old man," Flapjack retorted, getting to his feet, "I'm doing something about Bubbie. I can't bring her back, but I can make sure it doesn't happen again. I owe her that much."

"You were just a kid, Flap!" K'nuckles yelled, "There was no way a little kid was gonna be able to rescue an eight ton whale! It wasn't going to happen, and you know it! I'm not an expert on right and wrong, but I know for a fact Bubbie wouldn't want you to be going all over the seven seas, drowning sailors, stealing their loot and burning down their ships! She'd be furious with you!"

"Shut up!" Flapjack yelled, violently throwing his rum bottle ('finally!') at the legless man on the floor, "You didn't have to abandon me! If there was ever a time I truly needed someone to take care of me, it was at that moment, and you blew it! I don't want you back in my life, K'nuckles! How did you get here, really? Have you been following me? Trying to steal my treasures from Candied Island? Are you working for the authorities? Do you plan on turning me in?"

"No, but I should! You've become a real wacko, Flap. You murdered an entire crew today, kid."

"At least I'm not a homeless old man! I made something of myself!"

"So murder's an occupation, now is it?"

"It is for whalers, and it is for whaler hunters. They're gonna get what's coming to them, pops. They always do when I'm around. And when I find the one I want…it's gonna be fantastic." Flapjack's voice dropped into a low, deranged hiss. He was losing his mind, and revenge was the only thing he had left on his to-do list. It hit K'nuckles that Flapjack was far more dangerous than he'd initially believed, and suddenly, getting off this ship was his top priority,

"You know what, Flap? It's your life, you do with it what you want. I'm not gonna lecture you and tell you what you need. I hope you find what yer lookin' for."

"Oh no you don't," Flapjack answered, "Don't you pull that on me, old man. Let me guess: you want me to drop you off at Stormalong and stay there for a night, just for old time's sake. You'll run off to the police and have me arrested for my crimes, and I'll be locked away and you'll be a hero." K'nuckles cocked his head to the side with a quizzical look on his face, shocked by the level of paranoia just demonstrated. He asked,

"…Where did that come from? I'm not gonna do that, Flap. You have my word."

"Please. Besides, even if you did have me arrested, I'd have no problem breaking out. I've done that at least four times."

"Are you kidding?" K'nuckles exclaimed, "Jeez, Flapjack, what have you been doing? Look, I know I said I wasn't gonna lecture you—" Flapjack's grey eyes narrowed— "But I can't listen to this and not say anything. You're gonna get yourself killed, boy. You've been through a lot, I can understand that, and you're lost, kid. You're only twenty and you drink like, well, me. You've been arrested and you've killed so many people! This isn't you! What would Bubbie say?"

"Don't you dare," Flapjack hissed.

"WHAT WOULD BUBBIE SAY?" K'nuckles yelled back, "Come on, kid! There's no way she'd approve of any of this! TELL ME WHAT SHE'D SAY!"

Flapjack clenched his fists and ground his teeth. He was shaking with fury and wanted to hit the old man. Snatching up another empty bottle on the floor, he smashed it against his desk and pointed the jagged ends towards K'nuckles, who look horrified but couldn't run. Instead, he said it one more time.

"Flappy, what would Bubbie say?"

Flapjack's face went through a range of emotions, from anger, fear, sadness, and finally defeat. The broken bottle fell from his scarred hands and he dropped to his knees sobbing.

"She—she'd say, "Flapjack, baby, violence isn't the answer. Treat others the way you'd want to be treated. And quit hangin' with that old fool K'nuckles, he's a bad influence on you, honey baby."

"Um, actually, yeah, that sounds just like her."

"I hate you so much, K'nuckles," Flapjack added. He wiped his eyes and stood back up and went to his door (but not without snatching his nearly empty bottle of rum first). He flung his door wide open and bellowed,

"HORACE!" Within seconds, the large sailor was bolting from the galley to the young Captain's quarters.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Take this old dog to the brig, Horace. I don't want to see him anymore."

"Yes, Captain. Come on, grandpa," Horace grunted as he picked K'nuckles up easily, "To the brig we go."

"Wait, Flap!" K'nuckles protested, "Don't do this, boy! Just let me go home! Come on, kid, I promise I'll stay out of your life forever now. I won't tell anyone I found you, I won't mention your name, nothing! Please?" He clasped his hands together as he begged. Flapjack took a swig of rum, contemplated it, then said,

"Fine. Horace, throw him on a board with a stick and let him row back to Stormalong. But be warned K'nuckles. I've killed a lot of men in my day, and I won't hesitate to kill you either. Keep your mouth shut and live out the rest of your pathetic life in silence."

"Oh, thank you Flapjack! Thank you! I promise you'll never see me ever again!"

"Hmmph. I'd better not, or I'll be the last thing you ever see. Now get the hell off my ship."

K'nuckles didn't get the chance to say a real goodbye, because Horace turned around swiftly and carried the legless man with him. He could only turn his head one last time to see Flapjack finish his bottle of rum. He tossed the empty bottle into the ocean and went back into his quarters with a slam of the door. K'nuckles sighed and shook his head. It wasn't his nature to care about anyone, but seeing Flapjack this way was just…it was devastating.

Horace dropped K'nuckles on the main deck next to his broken legs and walked off to find a broken piece of wood and a stick. When he came back, he said,

"You're the luckiest bastard who's ever been on this ship, old man. Captain's never let anyone go before, at least not without a beating. You must have been a real influence on him."

"Unfortunately," K'nuckles muttered, thinking back to the worrisome way Flapjack had been drinking, "Hey Horace, do me a favor?"

"Yeah, right."

"Make sure Flap doesn't kill himself." Horace stopped for a moment, then sighed. He turned to look down at the half-man on the floor and said,

"I do that everyday, old man. He may be my Captain, but I'm still the oldest man on the ship, and I still worry about him. He drinks and hunts obsessively for the whaling ship that took his Bubbie, and more than once he's come close to death. He's a great Captain, treats us real nice and pays us for our work, but he's still just a kid. He won't make it past twenty-five if he's not careful."

"I know he won't," K'nuckles said, "Just please make sure he's safe. I know it's asking a lot, but he trusts you. You're very lucky."

"So are you," Horace chuckled, "I'm gonna drop you in the water. Here's your board and stick. And…legs. Good luck out there."

"Thanks, Horace." He looked once more towards Flapjack's quarters and sighed. "So long, Flappy."

* * *

_End of Chapter Three_

_ I hope people are enjoying this so far, I know it isn't my best work since I banged it out in a just a few days for fun. I didn't take this fic too seriously. It's just a nice distraction from work and school. And my screaming neighbors. As usual thanks for reading! Chapter four is on the way._

_-Juana_


	4. Chapter 4

The Whaler's Hunter

Juana la Cliker-Rooster

2010

_**A/N: Please read author's note at bottom of chapter**_

**Four**

Flapjack stood on the poop deck and watched as his old friend slowly paddled away. They could both see Stormalong Harbor in the distance, all lit up and beautiful. He took a drag on a cigarette he'd rolled himself, and held the smoke in for several seconds, watching K'nuckles leave and listening to the water as it rocked his ship to sleep.

He held in his other hand a new bottle of rum. He released the smoke and took a swig. The wind whipped his hair around wildly, while his powder blue coat danced faintly. His eyes were blood-shot, his face was worn. He hadn't expected to see K'nuckles tonight. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel after seeing him: he was teetering between excited and furious.

He'd told the truth about his life, though he'd left much out. There were things even he was ashamed of, people he'd known briefly he never wanted to look at again, places he'd been that he refused to return to, actions he'd gone through with that he tried to drink out of his memory, tattoos he often forgot he had. He was quickly building a name for himself, but it was a name that wasn't being spread. There were never any survivors, he refused to let whalers live. He'd not yet found his mother's killer, but he would. The Captain of the _Black Whaler_ had no idea he was being hunted, and that was going to make his demise all the sweeter.

"Captain?" Flapjack looked down to see Horace standing below him.

"I'm fine, Horace," he coughed, "Are you prepared for your shift?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Get to it."

"Yes, sir. Good night, Captain."

"'Night, Horace." Horace left him alone and went to his post, along with a few other sleepy men serving as lookouts for the night. Flapjack returned to staring out over the water, and K'nuckles was getting smaller by the minute. The young Captain hadn't told K'nuckles he had come to Stormalong to find him and tell him off, and now he didn't need to. He was curious, however, to see what people would say when they saw him. He guessed that most of the residents wouldn't recognize him, and that was just fine with him. Maybe he would go over tomorrow, just for a few minutes. His crew hadn't been off the ship in over a year, and yet they remained loyal. They deserved a break.

"Tomorrow," he said aloud, "I'll go visit. Just for a bit. Then I'll continue my search for the bastard who killed you, Bubbie. I promise."

The next morning, Flapjack awoke the same way he always did: in his quarters, still wearing his coat and boots, on the floor with at least two empty bottles of rum and some candy on the floor. Groaning, he got to his feet and rubbed his aching head. He took his coat off and walked to the galley, where the ship's cook had prepared a disgusting meal of fish for breakfast.

"Morning, gents," Flapjack addressed everyone, "We're going to Stormalong Harbor across the water. It's been a year since we last left the ship, and since we're here, we might as well. From now till nightfall, you fellas can go off and walk around. You know the rules."

"No pillaging, plundering, raping or attracting too much attention," the crew recited dully, "Yes, Captain."

"Excellent. Go get ready, I'll bring us in."

A few sailors gave each other subtle looks, and though Flapjack saw them, he decided not to address it. He had steered the ship with a hangover before, but he realized he must have looked extra terrible this particular morning. He turned back around and went to the steering. The ship turned slightly, pointing towards the Harbor. He barked orders to the crew, who obeyed instantly.

Once at the docks, he threw his powder blue coat and hat back on. They dropped the anchor and walked off the ship, but within seconds were ambushed by the frightening Dock Hag. She jumped out from behind a barrel and began to rant at them.

"Who said you could park here? Don't you know the rules? No docking without a proper permit!" Flapjack sighed and tilted his hat. The Dock Hag noticed the subtle movement and made to yell at him, but he gave her a wink and flashed a smile. Her cheeks turned red in surprise, and her whole face lit up when he dug into his pocket and handed her a small bag of candy.

"From Candied Island itself, beautiful," he said. She stared and took the candy in a daze—cute young men never gave her anything, let alone called her beautiful. She accepted the gift and said,

"Ah…you can park here for as long as you want, young man. Just keep out of trouble."

"Thanks, sweetheart. Appreciate it."

She didn't recognize him, that much seemed clear. He gave her another wink, then walked off without another word to her, his crew following behind. She looked at the candy in her hand and shook her head sadly.

"Oh, Flapjack," she muttered, "You've grown up."

The first place Flapjack wanted to visit was the dock where Bubbie had been killed, so he ordered his men to go off on their own. They would reconvene at the Candy Barrel in one hour. Excited, the crew pranced off, happy to be off the ship for once. Flapjack watched them flutter away before turning back to his objective.

As he walked through the Harbor, chin up, hat covering his tired eyes, hands in his pockets, people stopped to stare at him. The women all swooned at the sight, while the men looked to each other and nodded with approval—the 'Blue Guy', as they began to call him, was sharp and confident, qualities they wished more sailors had.

He walked past Doctor Barber's venue and took a quick peek in—the doctor was too busy to notice him, but Flapjack could see the man was getting on in years. In fact, everyone was getting older. It was suddenly so surreal to see the childhood he'd had growing old and moldy like this. He shuddered and left quietly, retuning to his task.

There it was. The Dock of Death, the Pier of Pain, the Wooden Walkway of Wallowing. It was still there. He hesitated for just a moment, afraid of what would happen if he went down there. No, he told himself, you need to do this. Just go.

One step…

Three steps…

Twelve steps…

The bottom.

He took a deep breath and began to walk to the end of the dock. He looked down and was surprised to see some pictures he'd carved into the wood still there. He used to draw using rusty nails on the dock. Bubbie used to worry about him using rusty sharp items, but he never listened. If he could only turn back time, he'd listen to every word she said….

He sighed. He didn't want to think, not really. He just wanted to visit, as if he were only connected to Bubbie in this one spot in the entire world. He opened his mouth to speak, but found only silence. Tears began to sting his eyes, and holding them back wasn't helping him any. He had tried so long to not cry in the past eleven years, but this morning it was unbearable, and he let himself sob like he was nine again. He sat down on the dock, ashamed that he was crying in public like this, but he knew he would probably kill himself if he didn't.

"Bubbie," he sobbed, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Bubbie…please forgive me…there was nothing I could do…Oh God, I'm so sorry!"

He sat on the edge of the pier, bawling uncontrollably and wishing he could have brought her back. In his depressed adventures, he'd stolen mermaid tears and wished for Bubbie to come back, but it didn't work. It was the one wish that was never granted. He wouldn't even try the wishing well. If mermaid tears didn't work, then nothing was going to work.

He could hear someone coming down the steps towards him. Probably a child who was going to ask if he was okay. Recomposing himself to the best of ability, he stood up and slowly turned around to the stranger, only to drop his jaw.

"Sally?"

* * *

_End of Chapter Four. Thanks to all who have been reading! The next chapter deals with God and such, and while I'm not religious in any way, I think I should warn religious readers that the next chapter might be kind of rough to read. Please do not take offense, it's just my take on what would happen with these two in this situation. Thanks again for reading!_

_-Juana_


	5. Chapter 5

**The Whaler's Hunter**  
**Juana la Cliker-Rooster**  
**2010**  
**TMMOF**

**Rating: R for language, violence, drinking, conversations about God.**

* * *

**Five**

Sally Syrup, the girl he'd once nearly had a crush on, stood before him wearing a nun's habit and black uniform. She gave him a sad smile and said,

"Hi, Flapjack."

"When did you become a nun?"

"A few years ago," she answered, ignoring the fact that he hadn't said hello, "My father died in an accident with an invention, and I lost my way for a bit. But then I found God." She coughed, then continued.

"Flapjack, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I haven't seen you in years, no one here has. But God told me you would be here soon, and that you were in so much pain." He turned back around to look out over the ocean. He kept his angry eyes focused on the water and replied,

"God told you this, huh? Did he mention that He hates me? Did He tell you why He took my mother away? Did He tell you about the life I've been leading?" Sister Sally sighed—she knew this was coming; depressed people were always sensitive and angry when it came to God.

"He told me you were suffering, Flapjack, that's it. Whatever the details are, they're between Him and you."

"He let them kill Bubbie," he said, "There are thousands upon thousands of whales in the ocean, and they had to take her. I believe in God, Sally, but I hate Him with all my being."

"You don't mean that."

"God is a worthless, pathetic, wicked, twisted bastard who plays with lives for fun," Flapjack spat, "He sees us as toys to be broken."

Sister Sally was silent. Breathe, she told herself, just calm down. He's upset, that's to be expected. She took a deep, rattled breath, then took a step closer. Another, another…

They stood side by side now, looking over the water. She looked up at his face and saw the bloodshot eyes and his nose red from drinking and crying. He sniffed and turned his head in the other direction—he hated being watched.

"God told me you're not well," she added.

"God tells you a lot of things," he snapped. Sister Sally simply sighed. She was beginning to bug him. Where was the girl who liked to play tricks on people? She'd been so much more adventurous than he had been as a child. This just wasn't Sally anymore.

"God loves you, Flapjack," Sister Sally said gently, "Even when it feels like He hates you, He really does love you. Please, Flapjack, I want you to be open and honest with me. I can help you."

Flapjack finally turned around to face her and yelled,

"I don't want your help, goddammit! I've gone my way and you've gone yours. Whatever garbage the Church has been feeding you, I suggest you quit spitting it back out at me and leave me alone. I have my destiny, and I'm fine with it."

"No, don't," she said, putting up both hands for emphasis, "Flapjack, listen to me—God has a message for you, from B—"

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING THAT OLD BASTARD HAS TO SAY!" Flapjack roared, "I DON'T WANT HIM IN MY LIFE!"

"Listen to me!" Sister Sally yelled back, "This is so important, you need to—AUGH!" Her hands flew up to shield her face from the hand Flapjack raised. He stopped himself and reminded himself he'd never hit a woman, no matter how much one infuriated him. Clenching his fist and taking a deep, harsh breath, he dropped his hand and walked past her.

"Flap," she called, "Bubbie doesn't want this for you."

"Bubbie's dead," he retorted, "and that's that. You want me to believe in God? Tell Him to bring her back."

He walked away without waiting for her reply. Sally stood alone on the dock, tears in her eyes as she watched the lost young man walk away from the one moment he desperately needed. She would go home to her convent and pray for him, the same way she'd prayed for him every night. He was going to need it.

Furious.

Angry.

Annoyed.

Enraged.

Pissed.

Ticked.

The words ran through his head as he stormed towards the Candy Barrel. Of course someone was going to ruin his moment with Bubbie, and of course it had to be Sally. And Sally as a nun, of course! It was sick.

'She had no business telling me God loves me,' he thought, 'Who does she think she is? Unbelievable. She has no idea what I've been through to get here, no idea at all! She doesn't know God abandoned me. Why did she have to bring God into it at all? Why does everything always have to come back to God?'

As he stormed past, the residents of Stormalong Harbor jumped out of his way in fear, or watched him go by. Some slammed their doors and windows. Lolly Poopdeck, getting just as old as everyone else in the Harbor, stood outside with his rusted buckets when Flapjack came through. When Flapjack got close, he refused to move for him.

"Move it," Flapjack snapped, clearly recognizing the man but not letting his own face show under his hat, "or I'll make you move."

"No way, man," Lolly answered defiantly, "You gotta chill out, dude. Seriously, just take a breath."

"I don't have time for your crap, Lolly!" Flapjack yelled, betraying himself. The rusty buckets in the older man's hands hit the wooden floor with a clang.

"Flapjack?" he asked with wide eyes, "Flapjack, is that you?"

"Don't do this," Flapjack sneered, "You'd be wise to forget you saw me here, Lolly. Now beat it."

"Sheesh, kid," Lolly replied calmly, "Fine. Just chill out, man. All right? Where you headed?"

Flapjack shot him a nasty look. Normally, people ran away after seeing the evil look he threw, but not this time. Instead, Lolly gathered up his buckets and said,

"Your Bubbie wouldn't approve of this, kid. You know that. Go on with your life, but don't forget her—the real her." And with that piece of wisdom, he walked off, not even shaken. Flapjack rolled his eyes and continued his walk to the Candy Barrel. He wasn't in the mood for anymore spiritual trash, and decided to punch the next person who tried to tell him what Bubbie wanted. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it:

The ship.

The ship was here.

The ship was here, which mean the Captain was here.

The Captain of the Black Whaler was here in Stormalong.

Flapjack's angry frown turned upward into a wicked, horrible, sadistic smile.

Revenge was here.

* * *

**End of Chapter Five.**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Whaler's Hunter**  
**Juana la Cliker-Rooster**  
**2010**  
**TMMOF**

**Rating: R for language, violence, drinking, conversations about God.

* * *

**

**Six**

Flapjack continued his walk to the Candy Barrel, but now he was feeling excellent. No longer was he upset about Sally and her God rantings, or Lolly telling him how Bubbie supposedly felt. His destiny had arrived, and he was not going to pass it up. He wore his wicked smile as he passed through the doors and entered the bar.

The first thing he saw was that the Candy Barrel looked exactly the same as it always had, but Peppermint Larry, the owner of the bar, had, just like everyone else in Stormalong, gotten so much older. He was cleaning out a mug when he noticed the stranger in blue.

"Welcome, sir!" he shouted jovially, "Come for some candy?"

"Yeah," Flapjack replied, scanning the entire bar, "Sure."

"Here ya go," the bartender said, placing a full mug on the bar, "That'll be two silver pieces." Flapjack dropped ten gold pieces on the bar and said,

"To make up for all the candy we stole when I was a kid." Larry stared at the money in shock, then said,

"Sorry, do I know you?"

"No," Flapjack answered, "you have no idea who I am. Just take the money and shut up."

"Um, okay, if you say so!" Larry put the money into his register and laughed happily, "Thanks stranger!"

Flapjack ignored him and scanned the room again. It was full of sailors, some from his ship, some he'd never seen before, and…

His heart stopped for the briefest of moments. There, in a booth across the room, sat the black-clad Captain, his red beard half-immersed in a mug of candy. He was telling a loud story to some prostitutes. Flapjack grabbed his drink and made his way over to the Captain.

"Morning, mate," he said to the older man, "You look like an interesting man. May I?" The Captain of the _Black Whaler_ looked up from the women and stared at the young blonde man who had interrupted him. He considered saying no, but then again, attractive young men didn't normally saunter up to him anymore, not for years and years.

"Sit down, boy," he said, "ladies, you're free to go. I'll see you lovelies tonight." The prostitutes giggled and walked off, relieved at the prospect of making some money tonight. Flapjack was left alone with the man. His heart was pounding.

"So, what's yer name?" the black-clad Captain asked.

"Jack," Flapjack answered, "And yourself?" Flapjack saw Horace enter the bar out of the corner of his eye.

"Captain Bavol Du Monte," the man answered, tipping his hat.

"A Captain, eh? Exciting! What do you do, exactly? Trading, exploring…?" Horace began to subtly watch the conversation across the room. He recognized Captain Bavol from Flapjack's descriptions.

"Whaling," Bavol replied, unaware he was being watched, "Whales are so useful, and they're making me a rich man!" He laughed into his mug. "Did you know that every part of a whale can be used? No waste! The sperm whales have ambergris, which can be used to make perfumes for the ladies. The companies I sell my whales to make soaps and candles from them, you can use the baleen to make combs, and the toothed ones can be used for scrimshaw! There's nothing that can't be done with the beasts. I keep the skull of my first kill on my ship, as the figurehead, twenty-three years ago. Wonderful, simply wonderful."

"Sounds adventurous," Flapjack said with a forced smile, "I'd love to see it."

"Oh, my boy, that can be arranged," Bavol answered, "Please, you may see it anytime you want for this week. My men and I are here, selling our merchandise to the local vendors. And tell me, what do you do?"

Flapjack had rehearsed this part of the conversation many times before, and answered without missing a beat,

"I'm in trading. I've traveled the world looking for the most exotic spices and foods I can find, and along the way I hope to find the end of my journey."

"And what journey is that?"

"Oh, just a metaphor sort of thing. You know, the whole spiritual guidance deal."

"Ah, yes," said Bavol, taking another drink, "Yes, I've been there myself. When I was your age, in fact. How old are you?"

"Twenty," Flapjack answered.

"And you are the Captain of your ship?"

"No, just the First Mate. I'm too young and inexperienced to be a Captain, but that's my goal."

"Good lad, good lad," said Bavol, nodding in agreement, "Young men like yourself need to have a mentor, someone to guide you through the hardships of sea life. It's not an easy path, my friend." Flapjack smiled, this time genuinely.

"Oh, I believe it," he said, taking another drink, "I believe it." Bavol was about to say something when he accidently knocked his drink over.

"Oh my," he said, "Do excuse me, Jack, I seem to be getting inebriated."

"It happens," answered Flapjack, "My Captain does it all the time himself." Bavol got up and said,

"I'm going to get another drink. I'll be right back."

"Take your time." The older man padded off to the bar, and Flapjack made eye contact with Horace. The First Mate clomped over and sat at the busy booth behind Flapjack, ignoring the protests of the current occupants.

"That's him, sir?"

"Yes. I've told him I'm First Mate, and we're in trading. I want you to introduce yourself as Captain, and then we'll go take a nice little tour of his ship. We'll get the job done today."

"Yes, sir," answered Horace. He left his booth and walked away just as Bavol was turning around and returning with his drink. He sat back down and said,

"My, this place is busy. Do you come here often?"

"No," answered Flapjack, "This is my first time here. Stormy little city, but nice to have a place to stop in."

"Yes, I agree," said Bavol with a grin. He looked up as the huge eye-patched man made his way over to them.

"First Mate Jack, is everything all right over here?"

"Yes, Captain," Flapjack answered innocently (it frightened Horace how well his Captain could act), "I'm just chatting with Captain Bavol here. He's a whaler, sir."

"Ah, excellent!" Bavol got to his feet and shook hands with Horace, "Lovely to meet you! Your boy here is just what I needed, a breath of fresh air. You must be an excellent Captain to have molded him into such a fine young man."

"Yes, sir," Horace answered with a grin, "He's the best of the best. He's very friendly, too."

"Yes, I see that," answered Bavol, "Please, join us!"

"I shall," replied Horace, "Please, tell me about yourself." Bavol went into a story of various whales he'd caught and stories of near death aboard his ship. Flapjack and Horace listened haphazardly. The man had no humility, and he left out no details of each victory. He also has no shame, Flapjack thought to himself as the Captain's foot ran up his leg. He simply slipped the boasting Captain a shy smile in return for the contact, but secretly couldn't wait for this to be over. He wanted to watch this man drown.

It was an hour before Bavol finally shut up. Flapjack and Horace were doing their best to keep their fake smiles on, but the Captain of the _Black Whaler_ simply smiled and said,

"And that's my story. Would you boys like a tour of my ship?"

'Finally,' thought Flapjack. Out loud he said, "Absolutely, sir. That would be…fantastic."

* * *

**_End of Chapter Six_**

**_Thank you to all who are reading! And for the reviewer, thank you too! I appreciate it._**


	7. Chapter 7

**The Whaler's Hunter**  
**Juana la Cliker-Rooster**  
**2010**  
**TMMOF**

**Rating: R for language, violence, drinking.  


* * *

**

**Seven**

Captain Bavol Du Monte led Flapjack and Horace towards his ship. Several more of Flapjack's men began to surround them in silence. Bavol didn't notice them right away, and instead kept walking. But once they reached the ship he turned around to introduce it and was bewildered to see so many men he didn't know surrounding them.

"What is this?"

Flapjack answered,

"Get on the ship, Captain."

"Now see here, young man, you'd best tell your friends to leave my ship alone. Captain Horace, tell your—"

"He's not the Captain, I am," Flapjack sneered, "Now get on the ship. We need to talk." He pointed to the ship and began to walk towards Bavol in an effort to make him walk up to his ship. Bavol's face looked devastated for the briefest moment, but then he roared,

"AT ARMS!" Nearly a hundred men popped out from all over his ship brandishing cutlasses and daggers and aiming guns and cannons at Flapjack's small crew. He looked up in shock, and opened his mouth to swear at Bavol but never got the chance. Bavol, removing his dagger from its sheath in one rapid, fluid motion, wrapped an arm around Flapjack's neck and held the dagger to his throat. His other arm wrapped around his chest and pinned his arms down. Flapjack's hands flew to his neck, where he tried to pry the Captain's hand and dagger away, but the older man was much stronger than he looked.

"Drop yer weapons or your Captain dies!" he bellowed. Horace, at a total loss, reluctantly dropped his cutlass and raised his hands in angry defeat. The rest of Flapjack's small crew followed.

"Release me!" Flapjack yelled, "How dare you!"

"Quiet, boy," Bavol sneered, "You don't think I don't know about you? That you've been hunting me for years? You should have been more observant, boy. A man you tried to drown a few years ago broke free of his bonds and survived. He and I were both lucky enough to cross paths out in the ocean, and he told me all about the little boy who wanted to hunt the hunter. I've known about you for a long time, Flapjack. I knew your face the moment you walked in just from his detailed description of you."

"Let GO!" Flapjack yelled. He stomped on Bavol's foot. The older man howled in pain and lost his grip on the young man, who flipped him over his shoulder in one move. Bavol's back hit the wooden Harbor's floor and he groaned in pain, unable to get up for the moment. Flapjack towered over him, wearing the most furious expression Bavol had ever seen in his life.

"You killed my mother," he hissed, "And now I'm going to kill you. Tell your men to drop their weapons."

"Never," Bavol barked back, "I will never surrender, unlike your pathetic crew. KILL THEM!" Bavol's crew sprang into action, attacking Flapjack's crew with wild roars. Horace and Flapjack's crew dove for their weapons and began to fight back.

With all the men fighting, it wasn't long before the residents of Stormalong Harbor came out of their hiding places to see what the ruckus was about. Among them rushed Sister Sally, her fellow nuns and the matriarch of Stormalong's church, the Dock Hag and Lolly Poopdeck. They raced past K'nuckles, who was asleep in a dark alley with a half-empty bottle of syrup. He didn't wake up.

Now with the citizens surrounding them and hollering at them to get off the Harbor, the fighting crews found they had little space to continue their battle. They began to teeter to the edges of the dock, and several men on both sides fell into the water. A handful of Bavol's men surrounded their Captain to protect him, but he ordered them away.

"No! This is Flapjack's little battle, he and I will continue. If I win, I take his ship, and he belongs to me. If I lose, he keeps my ship."

"Deal," sneered Flapjack, "Let's dance, old man." Bavol came at him with a roar, their cutlasses clanging together as the battle commenced. By now the residents of the Harbor had all heard the deal, and everyone was craning their necks to see their own Flapjack fighting skillfully and ruthlessly. It was a shock to many of the residents—they had all known him as a sweet, friendly little boy, not this hardened, frightening force to be reckoned with.

Still, they cheered him on. He was a member of the Stormalong family, and they all still cared about him, whether he knew it or not.

There was barely any space left for the dueling men. They had roughly a twelve-foot diameter of space, unless they decided to fling each other into the crowd or into the sea. And oh, how they tried! Flapjack couldn't believe how strong the older, overweight man was; he had clearly underestimated him. Bavol, on the other hand, was impressed with Flapjack's fighting style—he was young, but he was also experienced and knew how to protect himself. He was pleased to have such a mighty foe.

Flapjack swung his cutlass and made contact with Bavol's, and for a moment, they struggled against blades, glaring eye-to-eye, and baring their teeth at each other like animals. As they glared at one another, hatred burning in their eyes, all the voices in the crowd hushed, all save for one.

Flapjack's eyes went wide as Sister Sally whispered somewhere near him,

"This wasn't what Bubbie wanted for you, Flapjack. She wants you to be free and know peace. She's protected you from yourself for years."

This may have been a terrible time to tell him this, because Flapjack's heart dropped in his chest and he lost his concentration. Bavol seized the opportunity and punched the young man's stomach, then slashed out with his cutlass.

The crowd gasped and protested as blood spurted across their clothes. Flapjack fell to the floor with a pained scream. Bavol had landed an amazing, horrific blow. The cut ran at a steep angle along Flapjack's left cheek, barely nicking his throat and slashing across his chest. He was bleeding to death, breathing hard. He cried as he lay there, but not because of the pain.

"Bubbie…" he sobbed, "I'M SO SORRY! Oh God…please don't leave me again…." He began to whimper to himself, or Bubbie, or God, whoever was listening. He didn't care if he died. What he did care about was his Guardian Bubbie, and what she must have seen him do in his life.

For the first time in his life, he was truly ashamed and embarrassed with himself.

Bavol stood over him and stamped a sharp heel on Flapjack's back, knocking the fallen Captain down against the floor. Stabbing his cutlass into the air, he announced victoriously,

"I have defeated Captain Flapjack! He is no longer a threat to me and my men, and as punishment for his little crusade against me, I shall take him as my prisoner and drown him, and plunder this trash pile of a city! Flapjack, you have FAILED!" His words echoed through the Harbor, scaring seagulls and children. But it also did one other, very amazing, very hard to do thing, and it was happening in the alleyway where a legless man was sleeping.

The Captain gloated as his men rounded up the community and tied them up, ready to steal their goods. Flapjack was still bleeding and wasn't being attended to by anyone, despite Sister Sally, the nuns and Doctor Barber's efforts to go to him. They were all tied together as one huge group that would not be able to function. Flapjack was also tied up, arms behind his back, kneeling with his feet bound together. His face was streaked with tears, and his angry, dulled eyes were red as the blood he was rapidly losing.

Bavol laughed and grabbed Flapjack's chin, forcing the younger man to look up at him.

"Look at the mess you've made here, boy. I will let these worthless people go, but you are mine. I'm going to drown you, the same way you were planning to drown me. How does that sound?"

"You deserve to die," Flapjack spat, "I may be a cold murderer, but your actions made me who I am today. Never forget that you took the life of someone's mother, and in taking her life, you took a little boy's, too."

"Oh, shush with the theatrics," Bavol waved his hand in dismissal, "You sound like a priest." He pushed Flapjack away and kicked him. He ignored the pained moan and the blood. This was no different from killing a whale, he thought with a grin. He loved this. He loved inflicting pain: human, animal, it made no difference to him. They was all the same. He gave Flapjack another sharp kick to the face and laughed wickedly.

"That's ENOUGH," shouted a voice behind him. Bavol ceased his laughter and whirled around sharply to see who such defiance was coming from. When he saw, he laughed.

"What is _that_?" he guffawed, slapping his knee, "Is that supposed to threaten me?" His crew laughed along with him, even the residents of Stormalong had to laugh.

Captain K'nuckles knew he wasn't threatening. But as he stood there, using his hands as his feet, he still had an advantage: he was fast.

"Let the boy go," he sneered, "Or you'll have to deal with me."

"Oh please! This is too much!" Bavol laughed, "This place is full of 'em! So what's your name, hmm? And why do you care about this little bastard?"

"That little bastard is the closest thing to a son I've ever had. Let him go or I'll destroy you."

"K'nuckles, don't try to save me," Flapjack wheezed, "I'm not worth it."

"Yes you are, ya dumb kid!" K'nuckles snapped, "Don't you talk like that! If Bubbie were here, she'd give these idiots the beating of a lifetime. But she's not here, so I'm doing it for her."

For the first time in years, Flapjack's tired eyes widened back to their original, innocent, beautiful blue state. Someone loved him. Someone wanted to save him. For a brief moment, the burden on Flapjack's shoulders dissolved into thin air and left him feeling light as air.

Until the sharp pain of his wounds began to act up. He was still bleeding, but why wasn't he dead yet?

"This is my final warning," K'nuckles said, "Let him go."

"No," replied Bavol, "He's mine, I'll do what I like with him." He snatched a fistful of Flapjack's hair and pulled harshly. "I look forward to drowning your so-called _son_, you legless freak." K'nuckles sighed and replied,

"I hoped you would say that. YAAAAARGH!" He ran as fast as he could towards the Captain, unrealistically fast on his hands (hey, it's still a cartoon!) and head butt him in the stomach. Bavol was knocked down by the force and his own surprise by the effective attack and nearly fell off the edge of the dock and into the water. Grunting, he jumped back up and ran towards the half-man racing towards him. He kicked at K'nuckles, who opened his mouth and sank his filthy teeth into it. Bavol shrieked at the sight of the legless man trying to eat his leg off and danced around screaming,

"Get it off! Get it off me! It's eating my leg!" Stormalong Harbor's residents began to laugh at Bavol, finding some shred of respect for K'nuckles. Bavol was hopping on his free foot and screaming as K'nuckles bit harder.

"All right, all right already!" Bavol hollered, "Set them free! Set these stupid people free!" Grumbling, the _Black Whaler_'s crew untied everyone, including Flapjack. Sister Sally pushed a sailor out of the way and grabbed onto Flapjack, who was growing paler by the moment. K'nuckles finally let go of Bavol's leg, then head butt him one more time, into the ocean. The residents cheered and clapped, while the crew of the _Black Whaler_ dove into the water after their Captain. K'nuckles, proud of himself for rescuing the town, turned 'round to smile at Flapjack, but instead caught the sight of the young man, pale and covered in blood, fainting in Sister Sally's arms.

"Flap?"

* * *

_**End of Chapter Seven**_


	8. Chapter 8

**The Whaler's Hunter**  
**Juana la Cliker-Rooster**  
**2010**  
**TMMOF**

**Rating: R for language, violence, drinking.**

**Author's Note: I want to thank all of you who had continued to read this story, and thanks to the reviewers! This is the final chapter of _The Whaler's Hunter_, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it. I am in the middle of a new TMMOF fic, so keep your eyes open for it in the coming months! I can't give a real deadline since my life suddenly became much busier, so I'll be working on it slowly. But thanks for reading!**

**-Juana**

**

* * *

**

**Eight**

"Oh God," Sister Sally cried, "Help! Someone help!" Horace pushed through the crowd and scooped his Captain up.

"We need a doctor right now!" he bellowed. Doctor Barber came running and said,

"Follow me. All my equipment is at my place." Horace obeyed and they ran off to the medical center of Stormalong. The nuns followed quietly, whispering prayers for a safe, swift recovery, while Flapjack's crew stayed behind to prevent Bavol and his crew from climbing back up to the docks. Face red with fury, Bavol cursed to the skies and thrashed about in the water, attracting the attention of sharks circling nearby….

Horace, meanwhile, was racing ahead of Doctor Barber and reached the medical building before anyone else. He placed Flapjack on a bed and waited impatiently for the help to arrive. Once the doctor arrived, he began to do everything in his power to help. Only time would tell the final result.

* * *

Two days passed before Flapjack opened his eyes. He looked around slowly with heavy eyelids, and rubbed his face with both hands.

"OW!" he cried out as a sudden pain shot across his face and through his chest, "Holy mother of God!" He could hear footsteps clomping rapidly toward him, and was not all that surprised to see Horace barge into the room.

"He's awake," he called, "Captain's finally awake!" Another rush of feet came racing in, and very quickly Flapjack was surrounded by his crew.

"What happened?" he asked groggily. In fact, he sounded…puffy. He touched his face and found a huge wad of bandages resting against his cheek. He'd forgotten about Bavol's cutlass slashing his face and chest.

"You nearly died, sir," answered Horace, "Bavol came close to killing you, but someone came to your rescue just in time." Flapjack blinked, unsure if he could believe such a thing. He had little memory of the events that had taken place those two days ago.

"...Who?"

"Your own Captain K'nuckles, sir," Horace answered.

"I don't believe that for a moment," Flapjack snapped angrily, "Quit joking and tell me the truth."

"He _is_ telling the truth, Flapjack," answered Sister Sally, who entered the room and made her way over to him, "That old guy with the wooden hands saved you."

"I thought nuns couldn't lie," he replied flatly. Sister Sally turned around and said,

"Guys, could we have a moment, please?" The crew didn't even respond. They simply left the room obediently. Once they were alone, Flapjack asked,

"Sally, why did you become a nun? Really." Sister Sally sighed and sat down. This was never an easy story to tell.

"After my father died, I was left alone. I hated it. I was no longer free. I was taken and placed in the Stormalong Second Chance Home for Boys, because there isn't one for girls. The convent didn't know about me until years later. In my time there, I was treated terribly by all the boys and men there. Did you know the place is occupied mostly by grown men?"

"Unfortunately, I do," he answered.

"I was beaten, raped, starved and picked on for several years, I can't even remember for how long. I was convinced no one loved me, and I wanted to kill myself so badly. I turned to drinking—real drinking, like alcohol. None of that maple syrup business, that wasn't enough for me. I was getting into the opium some of the traders were starting to bring in, and I was a prostitute for a while to make the money for my bad habits. People treated me like trash all the time, but I ignore it, because I always had an escape plan waiting to be consumed back home.

One night, I was out and waiting for some guys to come along when I heard someone talking. Chanting, actually, is more like it. I followed the sound, hoping to find a paying customer, but instead found the Matriarch of the Church, Mother Hope."

"Are you kidding me with that name?" Flapjack interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"Trust me, I thought the same thing," Sister Sally replied, "I didn't believe in hope in any form, and I didn't want to. No one loved me at the time. Mother Hope asked me to sit with her and talk. I refused at first because I wanted to get back to working. But she told me she knew about me and needed to talk to me. I was suddenly afraid that she was going to report me to the police, but she told me that I had nothing to fear anymore. She told me God had watched me suffer, and that He was sorry for the pain."

"Yeah, right."

"Listen. She told me life sucked, and that caught my attention. Nuns don't normally say things like that, so I was intrigued. She began to tell me that God has a plan for everyone, even lost, angry people like us, and that she wanted me to be saved. She asked me to go home and destroy all my booze, all my drugs and throw them into the ocean, burn them, even tell them to fuck off, so I did. It felt amazing, Flapjack. I went back to her and told her all about it, and how wonderful it felt to throw that dead part of myself away. I joined the church right away and have been very happy ever since."

"This isn't going to work the way you hope it is," Flapjack said as he examined his fingernails, "Don't try to—"

"Save you, I know," Sister Sally interrupted, "Trust me, I'm not the one trying to save you. God isn't even the one."

"I'm very aware of that."

"It's Bubbie who wants to save you."

The room became eerily quiet once again. Flapjack's hands gripped the tissue-paper blankets laid over him, while his eyes narrowed angrily.

"This is unacceptable," he growled, "Do not start this, Sally."

"Flapjack, after I purged my alcoholic, deadbeat self, I learned something new about myself. I know this sounds totally nuts, but I can hear the dead now, at least the ones that need to be heard. It's like there was a void after I got cleaned up, and something just decided to fill that void for me. I've listened to her, just a few weeks before you came here. She said she'd been watching you fall into despair. You've been in fights, arrested, done unspeakable things with other men for money, food and shelter, you're an alcoholic and you drown innocent men and burn their boats. She's says you're lost, so incredibly lost. She wants you to know peace, Flapjack."

"You're a sick, horrible, lying creature," Flapjack replied, "I suggest you leave before I pun—HEY!" Sister Sally reached forward and gently grabbed his face in her hands, and despite how much he struggled to push her off, he simply couldn't do it. Sally's eyes rolled back into her head, much like a horror story, and she began to speak.

"Flappy, baby, I love you so much. You know that, don't you?"

"B…Bubbie?"

"You know it, baby. Now I want you to know that I been watching over you since the day I died, protecting you and making sure you didn't kill yo'self. There were hundreds of nights you would have poisoned yo'self with the way you been drinkin', and I've had it up to here with it. No more rum, you hear me baby?"

"Oh my God, Bubbie…" Flapjack felt warm tears running down his face. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real.

"Close your eyes, sweetie pie," she continued, "It's okay, I won't hurt you." He obeyed and let her press her forehead against his. Instantly the image of Bubbie, floating in the air, materialized. They were both floating in the most beautiful place Flapjack had ever seen. It was warm, breezy and peaceful. Bubbie reached out and hugged him.

"Baby, I know you hate that man for taking me away from you, but you need to let it go. What's done is done. I know it sucks, and I wish it hadn't happened that way, but it did. There's no changing that. Now you listen to ol' Bubbie. I want you to come here again, but only after you live a beautiful life. No more killing, no more drinking, no more pain. You can do it. You managed to achieve all the bad in your life, now go for the good. I expect to see you back here in seventy or so years, you hear me?"

"No, wait, Bubbie, please don't leave me!" He clung to her as tight as he could, afraid to lose her again. She gently pet his head and said,

"I'm not leaving you, baby. I'm always watching and protecting you. I want you to be happy, so go and make it happen. Travel, have a family, open a business, whatever makes you happy, I want you to go do it. I'll be here, waiting for when you come home to me."

He looked up at her, tears in his eyes. She wiped a tear away, then said,

"Look at you, all grown up! You're so beautiful, Flapjack. But your eyes, baby, they're so sad. Honey, promise me you'll get yo'self fixed up, okay? Do it for me, pumpkin. I wish we could have grown together, sugar, but things happen."

"I miss you so much," Flapjack finally sobbed into her blubber, "Please don't leave me! I want to stay with you! I don't care if I die, I don't want to live my life without you in it!"

"No, honey." Bubbie answered in a gentle whisper, "You need to go back for a while. You're only twenty now, you have lots of fun adventures to experience. And trust me baby, the Big Guy upstairs has a lovely plan for you, if you'll accept it. You don't have to be all religious and such, he doesn't care about that. He wants you to accept his plan and remember that you are loved, no matter what you tell yourself. I have to go now, Flapjack. Promise me you'll listen to me."

"I promise, Bubbie…I love you so much."

"I love you even more, sweetie pie. Now go home, people, your family is waiting for you." She let him go, and despite his efforts to cling to her, she faded away and there was nothing to grasp anymore. He dropped to his knees and sobbed, but when he opened his eyes again, he found himself still in bed with the tissue paper blankets and the cold steel frame, Sister Sally Syrup sitting beside him. She had his hands in hers.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I couldn't control that. But I didn't hear or see any of it. I just knew it was happening." Flapjack sniffed and wiped his eyes. He felt like a little boy again, crying for his mommy.

"It's fine," he said quietly, "I think I'm gonna be okay now. What happened to Bavol?"

"He was knocked off the dock by K'nuckles," she answered, "He was furious. Bavol was going to take you with him and drown you somewhere, and he would have been able to. K'nuckles bit Bavol's leg and I guess it really freaked him out. He let everyone in town go and let you go free, too. We had you rushed here; you lost so much blood you fainted. You remember that, right?"

"Not at all," Flapjack replied, "But I guess I have to believe it. It's crazy enough to be true."

"Do you want to see your crew?"

"Just Horace, please." Sister Sally got back up and gave him a warm smile. He returned it, albeit very slightly.

When Horace entered the room, Flapjack looked up at him with his usual jaded scowl, but Horace knew better. He sat down next to his Captain and grabbed him in an unexpected hug. Flapjack, caught off guard, didn't return the hug, but instead stared at Horace's shoulder with wide eyes. When Horace broke the hug, he said,

"Sorry, Captain, but I was so worried about you." He cleared this throat. "I'm always worried about you, to be honest. I don't know what to say or do to make everything right in your world, but I want you to know that I'm always concerned for you. You've come close to drinking yourself to death so many times that it's become a habit of mine to check on you, even when you aren't able to see me. I may be your First Mate, and you may be the Captain, but dammit, I'm still your elder and I'm going to get parental if I have to. I can't watch you die anymore."

"…I'm sorry, Horace," Flapjack whispered, his voice cracking, "I'm so sorry for putting you through all that. I never meant to be a burden on you."

"I'll admit it was like having a son," replied Horace, "I refuse to let anything happen to you. You need a parent in your life, son. Be it me or your K'nuckles friend, you need someone to help you through your tough times. No one can go it alone, not matter how much of a front you put on."

"I know," Flapjack said, "I was just so angry about losing Bubbie—I mean, how would you have reacted?"

"I'd be angry, and I'd seek revenge, but that doesn't make it right."

Flapjack sighed and looked away. Horace was right. He'd done so many horrible things in his life, and he had hurt so many people in so many ways. If there was ever a time for self-evaluation, it was now.

"I want to make everything okay," he said to Horace, "and I need someone to keep me on track. Will you help me?"

"'Course I will, Flapjack," Horace answered, "That's why I'm here. If I didn't think I could help you, you'd have been dead for years now."

Thank you, Horace," Flapjack said, patting the older man's hands, "Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me too soon," Horace warned, "You're gonna give me a hard time when it's time to go back to the ship and I dump your rum into the sea."

"I know," Flapjack answered, "I know."

"All right, captain, I think it's time you had a few minutes with the man who saved you. I'll send him in."

"Please do," Flapjack said, "And Horace? Thank you." Horace smiled at the young Captain and replied,

"You're very welcome." Then he left the room. Moments, later, K'nuckles walked in on a new pair of wooden legs. When he saw Flapjack lying in bed, bandaged and bruised, he had to look away.

"Captain?" Flapjack asked aloud, and for a moment, he sounded like the innocent little boy he used to be. K'nuckles turned back to him and said,

"Hey'ya, boy. How're ya feelin'?"

"…Saved."

"You mean other than physically."

"Yeah. I saw Bubbie, K'nuckles."

"Yeah? And what'd she say?"

"She wants me to be happy, and that my family is waiting here for me. I think you're part of that family."

"If you let me be," K'nuckles said, "then a'carse I'll be a part of it." He walked over to Flapjack and sat down next to him. "I've missed you, boy. I been worried sick about ya since you disappeared. I know I shouldn't have left you and Bubbie when she died, but like I said before, I couldn't handle it. I'm sorry, boy."

"I forgive you, K'nuckles," Flapjack said, looking down at his scarred hands, "I'm sorry too, for running away and making everyone worry. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"I understand," the older man said with a sigh, "That was a terrible day. Everyone is Stormalong was affected by it." Flapjack bit his lower lip in an effort to not cry. K'nuckles looked down at Flapjack's hands and asked without thinking,

"How'd you get those scars?" Flapjack wiped a rogue tear from his cheek and answered with a cracked voice,

"Lots of fighting. I got into so many fights with guys in bars, on ships, even on islands. Everywhere I went I got into a fight; I don't have much self-control. More than once they've been sliced up or burned. I've got scars all over, I just don't like to show them. Sometimes I feel like the scars are a part of me and I should feel pretty badass about them, but other times I'm shocked at my lack of control and suddenly I'm ashamed of them."

"Well, no more, boy. You may be an adult now, but I'm not gonna let you get hurt anymore. None of us will, but you gotta work hard towards getting better too."

"I know," Flapjack chuckled lightly, "Horace already informed me we're going to be tossing all my booze when we get back to the ship."

"That'll be interesting," K'nuckles mumbled. If Flapjack heard him, he didn't react to the comment. Instead, he examined his scarred hands and looked out the tiny window across the room. The sky was grey as usual, the wind chilly and salty. It was no different than the day Bubbie had died, and it annoyed him. He'd always envisioned life-changing epiphany days to be suddenly bright and warm, with chirping birds and rainbows. He'd expected…changes. Today was like the millions of days preceding it.

Except it wasn't, not really. He had a family now, people who loved and cared about him. People who were going to throw away his rum and yell at him when he needed a swift kick in the pants, people who would remind him that life sucked but went on regardless of how awful things seemed to be.

Flapjack finally felt like a normal young man for the first time in his life. He missed Bubbie terribly, but it was time to let her go and respect her memory, not murder in her name. That was a chapter in his life that needed to be ended, and the rest of his story was ready to be written.

"God," he said out loud, not caring that K'nuckles could hear him, "It feels good to be home."

* * *

**-End-**


End file.
